


Unorthodox Treatments

by Sziondaisy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: BDSM, Dominant Rung, Humiliation, M/M, Master/Slave, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Sex Toys, Sticky, Submissive Megatron, established kinky times, fluff at the end, lots of fluids, role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 15:45:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6290464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sziondaisy/pseuds/Sziondaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron is stressed out. </p>
<p>Rung can see the signs and invites Megatron down to his office after shift for a little stress relief. However it's not the polite chat over tea that other mechs have come to expect from their friendly psychiatrist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unorthodox Treatments

“You’re late.” 

Rung’s voice cut through the darkness of his office like a scalpel, with no hint of the usual friendliness or welcoming chatter. Straight to business then.

Megatron stood frozen in the doorway, illuminated from behind by the bright lights of the hallway. His optics adjusted slowly to the darkness of the office, finally settling on the only light emanating from inside the room. Two startlingly bright blue optics stared back at him, as sharp as his voice and just as unfriendly. 

The warlord’s face was shrouded in shadows but Rung could just make out the surprise etched on the old features. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, they had a system. A set of code phrases, innocent enough for optics that didn’t understand the underlying code. Rung had set up the system the first time he’d seen Megatron struggle to calm down after a long stressful day and his lover had happily agreed to the terms and rules. It became a regular thing for Rung to use the code whenever he felt Megatron needed to step back from the role of Captain and accept he couldn’t always have control of everything. Especially not when Rodimus was so stubborn about remaining in charge.

Earlier in the day Rung had seen Megatron almost crack, a hair away from snapping at Rodimus and completely losing his temper. Whether Rodimus deserved it or not didn’t matter, it simply wasn’t the way to handle the situation in front of the crew. 

‘It’s teatime,’ Rung had commed him, ‘my office after shift, we’ll talk’. Megatron knew what the code meant and suppressed a shiver as he marched away from Rodimus to cool down in the seclusion of his office. His frame reacted with the familiar heat at the order, Rung hadn’t asked and Megatron wasn’t going to disobey, not when it meant the tiny psychiatrist wanted to be dominant for the rest of the night. 

But between receiving the message and finally ending his shift, his actual reason for visiting Rung had completely slipped his mind. Not that it should have, he’d been looking forward to it. 

“Are you going to stand there all night and keep me waiting or are you going to come inside and lock the door?” 

Megatron looked over his shoulder, back into the empty hallway. Rung was offering him a chance to decline and walk away, but there was no reason to take it, he wanted what was being offered and if things got too much, he still had their safe word, ‘Captain’, which would firmly plant him back in a controlling role. Rung was one of the few mechs he trusted to stop when he was told to, that made allowing himself to drop into the role of submissive easier, but it never stopped feeling alien. Rung had always strived to made it an enjoyable experience in the past and Megatron had no reason to believe this time would be any different. 

Taking a step inside the room, Megatron locked the door and turned to face Rung or at least the spot where Rung had been. While he had been making up his mind, Rung had wheeled himself out from behind his desk to sit in the centre of the room, commanding the space with very little effort. 

“Good,” Rung purred, “now be a good mech and turn on the lights, then you can kneel in the middle of the floor and explain to me why I summoned you here.” 

Megatron was glad for the dark room when the shiver of anticipation cut through his frame, the way Rung spoke in that ‘better than thou’ tone was already pooling arousal behind his plating. His hand fumbled its way along the wall, seeking out the light switch. Rung sighed impatiently behind him, but he eventually found the control panel and the the overhead lights flickered to life with a buzz of fluorescence. 

Without waiting for a repeat of his orders, Megatron crossed the small room and knelt on the floor next to the therapy bed. Rung didn’t push him to continue, he could see the internal struggle of humiliation and submission in the ex-warlord’s tense frame. Knowing when to push and when to wait was all part of the game, Megatron set the pace of their game, Rung just pretended he had the power to.

“I’m here because I lost my temper more than once today and threatening to nail Rodimus to his desk is not the correct way of handling the situation when he refuses to do reports.” In hindsight he should have known that saying “I’ll nail you to your desk”, to Rodimus of all mechs, could only be taken as an invitation for a hard and fast interface to ‘break the boredom of reports’. Likewise, he should have expected it when the other captain sent increasingly filthy messages over his private comm line. There were a sickening amount of hardware innuendos still littering his HUD, marked as read and completely ignored. ‘If you nail me hard enough, they’ll start calling you a jackhammer’ and ‘Did you have a fusion cannon or a nail gun?’ being the two latest. Megatron frowned and blocked Rodimus’ frequency for the rest of the night. Magnus could comm him if there was an emergency.

“Very good.” Rung replied.

Megatron looked up, pleased with the praise. Rung sat cross legged in his therapists chair, elbows on the armrests, fingers steepled under his chin. For a moment, Megatron forgot to vent his current intake, for a mech so small and unassuming, Rung could look every inch the dominant warlord when he wanted to. 

Rung stood gracefully and picked up the pointing stick that had been balanced over his thighs. “What should I do with you?” He hummed, walking slowly around Megatron and tracing the tapered end of the makeshift whip over the thick grey armour. 

Incorrectly, Megatron assumed the praise gave him permission to touch and he reached out to touch Rung and draw him closer. The whip came down heavy on his hand, not strong enough to hurt him through his reinforced plating, but the warning was clear, ‘don’t’. 

“Hands behind your back,” Rung growled, “you know the rule about touching without permission, it was one of our first lessons together.” 

“I-” 

The tip of the whip pressed to Megatron’s lips, effectively quieting him. “If the next word out of your mouth isn’t our safeword then you had best remain quiet. Was it going to be our safeword?”

The larger mech shook his head.

“Your mouth is getting you into a lot of trouble lately.” Rung used the pointer to lift Megatron’s chin, forcing the other mech to look him in the optics, “should I gag you? It seems a shame to take away the use of your mouth when it’s so good at other things, but I don’t think you can be trusted to keep quiet.” 

Megatron shivered under the touch and Rung’s dark smile turned into a smirk, “so that’s how it’s going to be, hmm? You want me to treat you rough today?” He patted Megatron’s check and stepped back, “don’t move.”

Megatron’s frame ran hot at the promise of rough, stress relieving punishment. He’d never been the type to lay back and relinquish complete control but there was something different about Rung, something that made him want to play those games. Rung wasn’t the type of mech to abuse his power and push things too far and he often knew Megatron’s limits before the warlord did himself. Although Rung could pull off being a hard sparked dom, he was equally happy being the obedient, easy-going submissive. That made Rung a mech worthy of their games. 

One thing was for sure, Rung wasn’t a boring mech in the berth, it was just a shame so many mechs overlooked him and misjudged him as quiet and boring. Although Megatron was fine with that, selfishly he was more than happy to keep Rung for himself.

“Come over here,” Rung ordered and Megatron went to stand, “no, you can crawl.” 

Crawl? The safeword sat on the tip of Megatron’s tongue as he battled with the humiliation of obedience, but Rung wasn’t looking at him, wasn’t paying him any attention at all as he dug through the locked drawer of his desk and pulled out a random assortment of toys. The warlord bit back on the safeword and cleared his throat, “Sir, you never gave me permission to remove my hands from behind my back.” 

Rung paused, “so I didn’t. You had best get creative then.” Then turned his attention back to the drawer, digging around inside for his prize and leaving Megatron to puzzle over his next move. Slowly, careful of his protruding knees, Megatron walked over on his knees, his hands still firmly clasped behind his back.

Once he was close enough to the desk, Rung ran an appreciative touch over his helm, “good pet.” 

The touch was enough to amp up Megatron’s already sizeable charge and he purred softly, earning a chuckle from his little master. 

“What do you think of my toys?” Rung asked, gesturing to the selection on the desk so Megatron could agree with each of them or remove a few from play. Megatron cast a pleased glance over them; handcuffs, a ring gag, collar and leash set, a blindfold, a thick vibrator on a remote and a magnet latch. It was nothing they hadn’t used before and he nodded his agreement.

Rung picked up the collar first and snapped it into place around Megatron’s neck, it was tight, but not enough to cause damage or stop energon flow, it was just enough that he would remember he was wearing it and thus remember his role for the night. The leash clipped to a dangling D-ring at the front of the collar and Rung gave it a light tug, Megatron didn’t complain so he moved on. The handcuffs were next, military grade, unbreakable even by a mech as large as Megatron. They jingled as Megatron tested them and Rung tutted loudly, the jingling stopped immediately. 

“Such a good little pet,” Rung hummed as he stroked up Megatron’s strong arms and dipped his nimble fingers under thick armour to tease and stroke the more sensitive underplating. Megatron moaned and arched back into the touch, but Rung moved on as punishment for being too eager and stepped out of reach, much to the larger mechs chagrin.

“Use your comm if you need to,” Rung said as he picked up the ring gag and pressed it to Megatron’s lips, “open up.” 

Megatron was helpless not to obey, what parts of him still wanted to fight Rung were subdued with the gentle touch of thumbs stroking his bottom lip. Rung didn’t need words, every touch was careful, asking for permission, silently reassuring, ‘are you ok?’, ‘is this too tight?’, ‘are you comfortable?’, ‘does it hurt?’. If ever something did, it was quickly corrected, although outwardly Rung made a fuss of doing so, as if Megatron’s comfort was the last thing on his mind.

With the gag in place, forcing Megatron’s mouth open, Rung dipped his fingers through the metal ring and pressed down on Megatron’s tongue. “Very nice. You’re much better when your mouth isn’t getting you in trouble.”

Megatron could practically feel Rung’s budding charge bleeding off his frame in waves. The therapist did his best to ignore it, but that wasn’t easy when Megatron was on his knees and at his mercy. Contrary to popular belief, Rung wasn’t immune to an attractive mech. Just immune to the ones that were all bravado and no substance. Luckily, Megatron was more than substantial enough to entertain him and more than attractive enough to keep his attention.

“What’s next?” He hummed to himself, tapping the end of the leash to his lips as he surveyed the last few objects on the desk. “You haven’t been a good mech today and this is supposed to be a punishment,” he picked up the magnetic latch and rolled it between his fingers, “kneel up straight, no slouching.” 

Megatron complied, rolling his broad shoulders back to redistribute his weight evenly on his knees. Rung crouched down and and clicked the latch over Megatron’s spike cover, forcibly keeping it closed. The plating was hot under his fingers, evidence of just how worked up he’d managed to make his lover already, and they hadn’t even started yet. 

“If you’re a good, obedient pet then maybe I’ll let you play with that later, but for now it stays locked away.” 

That left only the blindfold and the vibrator. One look to Megatron and those hungry optics and he pushed the blindfold away, that was a look he didn’t want hidden away behind the plush, velvety fabric. Megatron followed the motion and frowned, looking up at Rung quizzically as the therapist stroked his cheek, “did you want it pet?”

Megatron nodded and tried to voice a please, but it was a soundless moan around the gag. It was easier to submit to the humiliation of being made a pet if he didn’t see himself doing it.

“Very well,” Rung agreed, he’d been hoping Megatron was passed needing it, they’d done this more than a few times before. Still, he wasn’t going to deny his lover something that helped put him at ease. 

The fabric felt nice on his face as Rung expertly tied the ribbons behind his head, completely blocking his vision. His other senses compensated, his audials strained to hear everything around him and his olfactory senses picked up just how strong the scent of arousal was in the room.

When Rung picked up the makeshift whip again and smacked the inside of grey thighs, Megatron moaned loudly. “Spread further, you’re too tall for me to use your mouth.” 

Even with Megatron’s legs as wide as they could comfortably go, Rung still needed to rise onto his tiptoes to bring his interface cover level with Megatron’s mouth. His panel snapped open and he sighed, thankful to finally release his spike from the tight confines. He wasn’t the largest mech, but his spike was ample for his frame size and it slipped through the ring of the gag without any trouble. 

Megatron did his best to bring his lover some pleasure with his tongue, but without his lips to create suction, anything he tried to do felt worthless. Rung didn’t seem to mind, he rocked his hips forward until the tip of his spike pressed against Megatron’s throat and his pelvic plating was almost flush with the gag. Megatron gagged, once, twice, and Rung pulled back. A few seconds recovery time and he thrust forward again, feeling the tubing of Megatron’s throat constrict around the tip of his spike as the large mech gagged again. Oral lubricants dripped from Megatron’s mouth, down his chin, covering Rung’s spike and thighs, the longer he was gagged, the more lubricants ran. 

“So messy, pet,” said Rung, his voice thickly laced with static and charge. It wasn’t a complaint, not really, Megatron looked debauched and that was worth everything.

Megatron could only growl and pressed his tongue up roughly, flattening Rung’s spike to the top of his mouth. That seemed to get his lover’s attention, reflex had Rung thrusting forward and gripping his head, giving him no room to pull back and ease the tension in his throat, he gagged violently, spilling more lubricants down his chin that only made his lover purr deeper. Rung let him gag, sensing when it was too much and finally pulled back, thrusting into his mouth lightly but giving him time to recover. “Such a naughty little thing, haven’t you learnt that testing me only leads to punishment?”

Obviously not, because Megatron did it again, leaning forward until his chin pressed tight to pelvic plating and he could swallow around the tip of Rung’s spike. 

“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, I expect you to swallow it all,” Rung’s voice was tight with charge as he gripped the back of Megatron’s head and held him in position, forcing his spike deep down his throat.. 

Balancing himself on one leg, Rung slid the other forward until his shin made contact with Megatron’s spike panel, still magnetised closed. It wasn’t a fair attack and he knew it, the pressure on Megatron’s already bulging panel was likely more painful than just uncomfortable. That didn’t stop the warlord from moaning deeply and shuddering as he rutted against the orange leg desperately seeking friction to relieve the ache. 

Rung chuckled, “maybe later, pet.” 

But first, he had his own overload nearing. 

Releasing Megatron’s head, he pulled back completely and took his spike in hand, stroking it roughly. Megatron’s tongue poked out of the ring, swiping at the tip as he waited for Rung to overload. 

When he was close enough, Rung pressed just the tip of his spike back through the ring and panted out that he was close. Megatron could already tell that just from the charge buzzing off Rung’s frame and the gasped warning was pointless when two strokes later, Rung was overloading with a silent scream of pleasure and spilling himself over Megatron’s tongue.

Finally he stepped back, gratefully dropping off his tiptoes and dropping into his vacated chair to survey the damage. 

Unable to swallow, oral lubricants and transfluid dripped down the warlord’s chin. Rung swiped his thumb through the mixture, smearing it over a hot cheek, “primus, pet, you look beautiful like this.” 

Beautiful was not one of the words Megatron would use to describe himself and he scoffed. Rung tutted loudly and tugged roughly on the leash, wanting Megatron to crawl the short distance towards him. The larger mech winced and hissed from his chest vents. Immediately, Rung was back on his feet and his fingers slipped into the collar to test the tightness, it had slipped low and while it wasn’t going to do damage but it was too tight to be comfortable, quickly he loosened the buckle a few notches.

he chastised over the comm line.

Megatron shrugged. 

Rung didn’t look totally convinced, suspecting Megatron was more into the pain aspect of their play than he let on. If that was the case then he wasn’t entirely against the idea, but that was something they needed to discuss and set the rules for. He wasn’t entirely happy with being tricked into pushing the safe limits they had both agreed on. 

Rung added sternly, determined not to let it go. He couldn’t prove Megatron was lying though - and if he could then he would have ended their session immediately and spent the rest of the night reminding his lover that they had boundaries for a reason and broken boundaries meant broken trust - but for now he had to trust Megatron was telling the truth, the collar hadn’t felt painfully tight when he’d checked it so decided to let it go and continue. The chances were it just caught a neck cable sharply when he’d tugged the leash. 

“Come over here,” he tugged the leash again and the larger mech shuffled towards him. “I assume you’ve learnt your lesson about proper use of your mouth?”

Megatron nodded and once he was close enough, Rung reached back and unbuckled the gag, carefully removing it and throwing it off to the side to deal with later. Orange hands softly massaged at tense jaw cabling as Rung worked out the ache for his lover. Megatron swallowed hard a few times, then licked his lips and pressed into Rung’s touch gratefully. 

“You really are a messy little pet,” muttered Rung as he pulled a clean cloth from his subspace and wiped Megatron’s face and chest clean. “You are very well behaved though,” and that deserved a treat, something small, not an overload, “have you fuelled yet?” 

“No, Master.” 

Rung frowned, he couldn’t give Megatron one of the midgrade cubes he kept in his subspace. There were ship rules he couldn’t break and Megatron’s diet of fool’s energon was one of the main ones, Megatron rarely tried for anything else though and would have refused Rung’s energon if it was offered. Hand deep in one of his secret compartments, Rung pulled out the next best thing to a cube of energon, jellied energon balls coated in rust flakes. He took one of the sweets and squished it between his thumb and forefinger, painting Megatron’s lips with the sticky substance. Immediately, Megatron’s tongue licked away the offending sticky jelly and he leaned forward, taking Rung’s fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean. Rung held the next one between his teeth and leaned forward, kissing his lover and pushing the sweet into his mouth with his tongue. 

Megatron growled happily and nipped at Rung’s lips with sharp fangs. The treatment earned him a hard slap from the whip that made him jump and set a line stinging down his thigh. 

“Do I need to get the gag again?”

“No, Master, I’m sorry.” 

The bites repressurized his spike as they always did. His favourite thing about Megatron spooning behind him when they recharged was the bites and sucks down his neck cables. More than once Megatron’s fangs had sunk too deep, drawing energon and more than once Rung had overloaded because of it. 

That was something for later though, when they stood on equal ground again.

‘I have to get off my knees,’ Megatron commed just as Rung pressed another sweet to his lips, ‘sorry, it’s getting too painful on my joints.’

‘Oh, of course, don’t be sorry,’ Rung replied, letting the leash go slack and sucking his own fingers clean, ‘would lying down on your back be acceptable? I can uncuff your hands if that will be a problem or would you rather stand?’

‘On my back is fine.’

Rung watched as the large mech dropped to the floor with more grace than expected and settled on his back. His hands were trapped under his lower back, forcing his hips up into the air at an angle Rung was helpless not to take full advantage of. ‘Comfortable?’

Megatron nodded. Comfortable was pushing it too far, but his new position was kinder to his knees at least.

“Open your valve cover.”

It was open before Rung even finished his order. “Eager are we?” 

A muffled response and a deep engine growl was his response. That wouldn’t do, it was hardly the needy begging he was looking for. With the vibrator in hand, Rung knelt between the thick grey thighs and explored the heavy ankle armour with deft fingers. 

“You’re a very handsome mech, pet,” Rung hummed appreciatively as he traced the sharp angles and bends of Megatron’s shin, venturing higher until he could dip his fingers into his knee joint and massage the cables and gears. Expertly he worked away the stiff ache, leaving Megatron pain free after spending so long on his knees. “So strong, even laying on your back at my mercy.” 

It was torture. Not the kind Megatron was used to, nor the type he had once condoned using on prisoners. Rung’s touches were gentle and deliberately slow, registering only as featherlight brushes of fingers through his armour. Nimble fingers worked under his plating, finding hidden cables and fine wires that were over-sensitive to being touched, each tweaked and twisted with perfect precision. Slowly Rung worked up his frame, finding bundles of sensors untouched by anyone else, either by speed needed for a thick frag or because his other lovers had fingers too big to sink under his armour and find them.

Every touch was deliberate, seeking out spots that had him whining and gasping like this was his first time. Rung played him like a violinist on stage at the Iacon Orchestra Hall, with Megatron’s moans as the accompanying vocals.

“Such beautiful sounds you make.” 

Rung, newly appointed Master of Soft Torture, sat back and judged his next move, pointedly ignoring Megatron now his charge was peaking at a more needy level, much closer to overload. The large mech twisted against the ground, silently begging for more touches. Rung looked pleased, but remained unaffected as he held the vibrator in his hand and considered how to approach his next move best. 

The thick vibrator was larger than Rung’s spike, but still small enough for a mech the size of Megatron to take without much preparation. His valve was already slick with lubricants, easing the path of Rung’s fingers through the moist lips to settle inside of him and hook against one of the sensor clusters. 

Megatron saw stars and choked out a needy moan as he arched his back, trying to urge Rung deeper. It didn’t work, Rung followed his movements and his fingers remained shallowly seated where he wanted them. 

“Now, now, pet. You get what I give to you and nothing more.” 

Before Megatron could answer or beg for more, Rung added a third finger and twisted his hand to face upwards, thumbing the sensitive nub as he lightly thrust his digits inside him. It wasn’t enough for Megatron, Rung’s fingers were small, too thin to clamp his valve around and _feel_. Like everything else that night, it wasn’t enough, it was just teasingly below the limit of what he _needed_. 

It felt like forever that he’d been sat so tantalisingly close to the edge of his overload, since entering the room he’d needed it. Instead, he remained trapped on the precipice, never able to take the leap and finally crest over into the pleasure his frame was craving. 

Rung continued as he wanted, bringing Megatron to the cusp before denying his overload and pulling him back from the brink with a dark chuckle. Megatron begged, pride forgotten as yet another overload was torn from his grasp and all he could do was settle back and wait for the charge to fade enough for Rung to continue. 

Rung counted the denied overloads like trophies. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he cooed to the shuddering, writhing mech under him, “yet you still won’t really beg for it.”

So that was what Rung was waiting for? “Please, Rung,” Megatron choked out, “please, I need you.” 

It wasn’t or rather it would have been if Rung hadn’t needed to ask for it. “Rung? No, pet, I’m your master in here.” 

A savage swipe of his outer node almost brought him to overload, but Megatron wasn’t so lucky. “Please, Ru-Master,” he amended, “please.” His spike ached behind his locked panel, pressed painfully tight against the burning hot metal. His valve dripped, ready for more than fingers,and pooled under his aft in a sloppy puddle. 

“Better, but still not good enough,” Rung chastised, “no overloads until I’m done with you.” 

The sound of Megatron’s distress was music to his ears. How many other mechs could say they had watched Megatron come undone? How many could say they were the cause of such need? How many could say they had Megatron at their mercy? Rung grinned, glad for the blindfold that hid his ego boost from Megatron’s eyes. No, this side of Megatron was his and his alone.

Like raindrops, his fingers tapped at the bulging spike cover. Megatron kicked out instinctively and arched away from the painful sensation. 

It was too easy to keep Megatron on the cusp and riding his arousal like a rollercoaster with no end. Enjoyable too except Rung needed him to drop his charge enough so inserting the big toy wouldn’t crash him over the edge. He was serious about prolonging the torture as long as possible and giving Megatron one spine-tingling, toe-curling, processor wiping overload at the end of the night. 

Removing himself from the temptation of Megatron’s slick valve, the therapist busied himself with his previous task of stroking the large mech from head to foot, silently marvelling over the strength that twisted and pressed into his touches. Words of encouragement and praise dripped from his lips, but Megatron didn’t hear them, too wrapped up in the horrible pleasure of denied overloads and featherlight touches that worshipped his frame.

Rung lowered Megatron’s charge slowly, avoiding his erogenous zones and searching out unsensitive wires and cables to test. His exploration picked out a few new spots for further testing, areas that made his lover moan when he shouldn’t have, but that was a task for the next time he had his lover at his mercy. 

When Megatron was at half charge and hissing unhappily at the loss, Rung sat himself back between his legs and picked up the vibrator. “You’re such a good mech,” he cooed as he spread Megatron’s valve lips with two fingers and pressed the thick head of the vibrator into him, “no overloading, pet.” 

That was a difficult order to obey. Inch by inch the toy slipped inside him and he felt the blessed relief of finally being able to clamp his valve around something substantial. Rung angled the toy carefully, hitting none of the sensors lining the mesh walls, Megatron complained loudly and bucked his hips. 

“Come now, pet, you know waiting for your pleasure only makes it sweeter.”

Megatron couldn’t deny that, but it didn’t stop him listing numerous ways to get his lover back when the tables were turned. 

Finally the toy was seated fully and Rung grabbed the remote as he climbed up Megatron’s frame to straddle his face. His eyes caught the bag of sweets that had spilled over his chair and and he stretched out to grab a handful of them. Mashing them between his fingers, he wiped the paste over his valve lips and nub, then lowered himself back over Megatron’s waiting mouth, “clean me up.”

More than happy to oblige the request and with the scent of such strong arousal filling his olfactory sensors, Megatron licked a path through Rung’s valve lips and latched onto his nub hungrily, sucking and licking at the sensitive spot. Rung keened over him, crying out in pleasure as he ground his array onto eager lips. 

The taste of tangy lubricants mixed with the overly sweet energon treats was a heady mix and Megatron lapped it up with a hungry growl. 

With shaky hands, Rung grabbed for the fallen remote and twisted the dial to full strength. The vibrator came to life and Megatron bucked at the unexpected stimulation, almost throwing Rung to the floor. The loud moan and scraping teeth against his nub almost brought him to overload, but Rung wasn’t ready and pulled back, letting his charge die down. There was no rush to get to the end of their session...at least not for him.

Easing up on the dial, he lowered the strength until it was only a stimulant, too weak to bring the warlord to overload and too strong to be ignored. 

Megatron’s hips rolled and bucked, trying to push the toy deeper and activate his ceiling node so he could bring about his own overload, but the toy was too short to reach. Rung remained out of reach for his mouth and went forgotten as Megatron chased a distant overload.

The taste of fresh, tangy lubricants dripped on his lips and Megatron tugged roughly on the cuffs, wanting use of his hands to pull Rung tight to his face where he could assault the smaller mech with his tongue. Somewhere in his foggy mind, he remembered that bringing Rung to overload would hasten his own and that plan of attack seemed the best to take.

Rung seemed to understand and dropped his weight, grinding his valve against a more than willing mouth. Megatron’s tongue pressed inside him, alternating between thrusting and gentle licking. 

When Rung turned the speed up again, pulling his lover to yet another denied overload, Megatron struck his plan and sucked hard on the sensitive nub, looking to distract Rung from the toy long enough to overload. When the toy slowed, so did Megatron. 

Rung hissed his charge as his vents raged. He could feel Megatron’s do the same as hot air curled against his back, escaping from strong chest vents. 

It wasn’t enough for either of them, Rung didn’t want to allow Megatron the satisfaction of overloading before he had been given permission, but that also meant denying his own. That wouldn’t do, he’d taught his pet better than that. “Get to work, Pet, you want your overload yes? Earn it.” 

Megatron shuddered and licked slowly, taking revenge for the sweet torture by giving Rung back exactly what he’d offered. Nothing but empty teasing. 

Rung growled above him and rolled his hips roughly against the slow licks and nibbles. Megatron smirked against Rung’s valve and when he felt he’d made his point, then set about his task like it was all that mattered in the world. His experienced tongue made short work of the small mech, sending him flying towards his charge. 

The sudden change of pace was almost the undoing of Rung, who had secretly been enjoying the slow torture. Personally he’d always enjoyed delaying his overloads for as long as possible, riding out the anticipation for as long as possible, slowly building a charge that hit like truck when it finally crested. Quality over quantity, one big overload was better than a handful of small ones. Megatron hadn’t quite learnt that lesson.

Rung pressed a hand to his spike panel to prevent it instinctively opening as he neared his overload. He had more than enough transfluid in his tank to go a few more rounds with his spike, but there was nothing he liked more than to see his fluids drip from Megatron’s valve and he would rather save himself for that that. 

Rung overloaded with a hoarse shout. His back bowed as he cried his pleasure to the ceiling and rolled his hips, drawing out the pleasure for as long as possible. Finally he flopped forward, panting for cool air over his overheating frame. 

Megatron grinned in victory and didn’t stop sucking on Rung’s nub until the therapist forcibly pulled away with a strangled groan. Oversensitive and shaking as he lay on the cold floor.

He wasn’t given long to recover before Megatron made his wants known. “Please, Master, I’ve been a good mech.” His voice was tight and Rung found himself moving before fully processing what he was doing. 

Climbing back between Megatron’s legs, he pulled the toy free and released his spike, having saved his last overload - and hopefully enough stamina - to overload with his lover. With a shaking hand, he steadied himself and slid inside, angling his hips for Megatron’s pleasure and grinding his plating to the engorged nub. 

Megatron cried out, arching his back and wrapping his legs around Rung’s waist, dragging him in close so he could roll his hips and crush his nub against the warm plating. Pleasure coiled through him, escaping as a strangled moan of desperation. 

Rung couldn’t do much, crushed as he was between two strong legs. His charge hadn’t relaxed much since his last overload and Megatron’s charge was only serving to amp his faster and faster until his vision swam and the knot of impending pleasure settled low in his stomach. 

With a flick of his hand, Rung removed the magnetic latch and from the black spike cover and it instantly snapped back, freeing the large, aching spike from its confines. Megatron gasped and jerked his hips up wildly as if he could penetrate the air. Somewhere above him, Rung’s voice spoke, the words distant to his processor, like listening to a voice underwater. A hand wrapped around his hips, pushing him back towards the floor, the other wrapped around his spike, stroking him fast, in time with the short thrusts Rung was managing.

It didn’t take long, his need had been great before Rung had started fragging him, but now it was finally cresting and overload was in reach. This one promising to bring him over the edge instead of being pulled short for his lover’s entertainment.

Lost to his pleasure, Megatron could do nothing but chase it, rolling his hips back to meet Rung’s thrusts and rolling his hips into the waiting hand around his spike. His frame felt tight, tensing almost painfully as knotted pleasure exploded in his gut.

He overloaded with a roar. Vision and audials turning to static as his spike pulsed in Rung’s hand, shooting transfluid in long sticky streams that came out with enough pressure to splatter his own face. His valve clamped down on Rung’s spike, too tight for Rung to do anything but press deep and follow Megatron over the edge. 

Charge cracked over Megatron’s frame as it struggled to settle back into its normal rhythm. His vents raged in the sudden silence as overheating warnings popped up onto his HUD. Still he rolled his hips, milking the last vestiges of pleasure from his slick valve. He could feel the lubricants and transfluid dripping down his hips, streaking his silver plating with their mixed fluids. 

When Megatron unhooked his legs and allowed Rung to move, Rung pulled back, his soft spike slipping free followed by a gush of liquid. The therapist bit his bottom lip and held back on a moan as he ran his fingers through the liquid and swiped his thumb over the sensitive nub. 

Megatron hissed loudly and bucked away from the oversensitivity. 

With no recovery time, Rung pressed his thumb against the bundle of sensors and hastily massaged it in small circles. His lover bucked and whined, torn between twisting away and pressing closer. It felt like too much, the pleasure too sharp to fully enjoy. Yet his charge still grew quickly despite his fighting it and it didn’t take long for him to press back and ride out a second overload, albeit weaker than the first. “You wanted overloads didn’t you pet?” Rung said in a sickenly sweet tone, “well here they are.” 

It was almost painful to ride such over sensitivity through a second overload, but he choked out a moan as his spent spike pulsed weakly, dribbling the last reserves of transfluid down his spike. Once the pleasure passed, he felt completely boneless and pleasantly numb. 

They lay together, content to enjoy the afterglow for a few minutes. Rung drawing swirling patterns through the fluids splattered over the broad silver chest and Megatron purring deeply at the warm, sated feeling that settled in his frame in the place of tense stress. 

Rung sat up first, forcing himself to act, rather than risk them both falling asleep on the ground like they had last time. Pushing himself up onto his knees between Megatron’s thighs, he smiled down at his lover, “how are you feeling?” 

Megatron thought about that for a moment and smiled, “wonderful, thank you.” Honestly he felt immensely better than he had when he’d arrived, more relaxed and less tense, his frame was as jellified as Rung’s sweets and that felt fantastic. He smiled to himself, Rung always seemed to know what he needed before he even realised it himself, but then Rung was unsurpassed when it came to reading mechs.

“Good,” Rung replied, his usual friendly tone back, indicating the game was over and things were back to normal. With a wetwipe from his subspace, he quickly cleaned himself off, only enough to be presentable if he was caught in the hallway as he made his way to the washracks. Then he turned his full attention to Megatron, “if you roll onto your side then I’ll take the cuffs off.” 

Megatron did just that, rolling onto his right with a groan at the amount of effort needed to do so. Rung typed in the override code and they demagnetized, falling away from the thick wrists with a clatter as they landed on the floor.

Megatron sat up and pushed the blindfold off his face, chuckling at the sight of himself compared to how neat and tidy Rung looked. He rubbed his wrists with a cuckle, “you certainly know how to make a mess.” 

“If you’re lucky I’ll help you clean up in the shower,” Rung purred in return.

Not before he’d made them messy again, the warlord decided. It was only a shame Rung was too small to do anything useful while down on his knees.

It was in the aftercare that Rung showed his true nature, caring so tenderly for Megatron as he wiped him clean and pressed tender kisses to his neck and chin. If it wasn’t so sweet, Megatron would have laughed at the thought of anyone treating him like he was made of glass, especially someone as fragile as Rung. 

As it was, Megatron found the gentle acts of care more sexual than their kinky play. No one before Rung had ever happily sat in the afterglow and so meticulously cleaned him and checked for damage. The plush collar came off and went straight into Rung’s subspace to clean later, then nimble fingers moved to massage the thick cables the collar had constricted.

“I’m fine Rung,” Megatron chuckled as the orange mech sat in his lap to better reach his neck. He caught the tiny hands in his own and pressed a light kiss to each of them, “I promise.”

“Are you sure? Can I get you anything?” 

Megatron shook his head. 

“I wasn’t too rough was I? You aren’t sore?”

Megatron laughed and pulled Rung against his chest, “you worry too much. I’ve survived explosions and war, I can handle you and a makeshift whip.” 

Rung frowned, but ultimately he knew Megatron was right, nothing he’d done had been intended to cause pain. Which reminded him that that needed to have that conversation at some point in the near future. 

“Washracks first, then fuel and recharge. Your room this time, it’s closer,” Megatron said as stood, still holding Rung to his chest as he walked towards the door so Rung could type in the override code and let them out.

“Perhaps next time we could use your quarters,” Rung suggested, “you have a washrack in your room, that would make life much easier and no one would question me leaving your room.” 

Megatron smiled and set Rung back on the ground so they could walk together without attracting unwanted glances. “My quarters have Ravage.” 

Rung just smiled knowingly up at the Captain, “I’m not opposed to a third party.” 

Megatron stood, gobsmacked, and watched Rung walk ahead as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell into the conversation. A smile pulled on his lips and he shook his head with amusement. Of all the mechs he’d ever met, it was an unassuming and seemingly fragile mech that surprised him the most. 

“Are you coming?” Rung asked over his shoulder, realising he was unexpectedly walking alone.

Megatron flashed him a smile and nodded. “I am. I was just deciding how to get my revenge,” he lied.

The knowing smirk on the therapist’s face was worth every second of his earlier humiliation.

“I suppose that’s fair,” Rung agreed, “after all, what goes around, comes around.”


End file.
